


Unexpected

by captainhurricane



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Keith overthinks, M/M, Shiro is the kindest top okay and that's canon, also Pidge is there because she's great, what do u mean Voltron is for kids
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-09-09
Updated: 2016-09-09
Packaged: 2018-08-14 02:10:20
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,941
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7994794
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/captainhurricane/pseuds/captainhurricane
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Keith is a dumbass. Thankfully Shiro likes him anyway. Pidge wonders why does she get to offer love advice when she's the youngest, dammit.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Unexpected

”Uh, Pidge? Can I talk to you for a second?” Keith leans against the doorway to her room, arms crossed and a frown scrunching up his face. Pidge raises her head from her tinkering and blinks. For a moment Keith hesitates, wonders if this is such a good idea after all but bringing this issue to anyone else seems like even a worse one. At least Pidge is- well. Pidge is sensible. Pidge wouldn't make fun of him, right?

 

”What's wrong?” She lowers her gaze but waves him inside. The question is enough to relax Keith but he still doesn't unwind his arms, only steps in enough to let the door hiss closed behind his back.

”Uh,” he says. Watches her small, agile hands tinkering with wires. ”I think I'm- I- uh-” Keith bites his tongue, the noise he lets out is frustrated, irritated. He never used to have trouble with these. Relationship-things. Mainly because he never had one and never wanted one, preferred the company of himself to the company of others.

 

But now he's found himself interested, both his body and mind edging towards Shiro of all people. Why not Allura- she might be a different species but at least she's- it's not like it bothers him that Shiro's a guy, it's not that. Keith's not from the Middle Ages, thank you, but it's just that Shiro's a legend. Shiro's admired, untouched, noble. And all Keith thinks when they're outside of battle, when adrenaline has dwindled out of his veins is that every inch of him wants Shiro.

 

Keith shifts, flops himself down on the floor opposite to Pidge. She blinks at him again.

 

”It's a little unusual for you to come to me for anything;” she says, her grin quirks her lips up quick and Keith huffs.

”I can't just go to like, Lance or Hunk and tell them that-” tell Shiro that he's been dreaming about Shiro's hands and Shiro's broad shoulders and had been wondering if the prosthetic hand is cold or warm. If it would be cold or warm against skin.

 

”Tell them what?” Pidge tilts her head. Her hands have stilled. Keith nibbles on his lip. Pidge squints at him. ”Dude,” she says, her head tilting again. ”What's this about? Some guy-talk without actual guy-on-guy-talk? I've never seen you so fidgety.”

 

”I could go to them,” Keith says, watching his hands on his lap. ”But Lance would just tell everyone because he doesn't get it and Hunk just- wouldn't get it.”

”And you can't go to Shiro because?” Pidge is still squinting at him. Keith glances at her. His cheeks heat up. He just knows they are getting as red as his damn Lion. Pidge blinks. Her eyebrows climb up.

 

”Oooh,” she says. Sits up straighter. ”Do you- are you-?” Keith's turn to blink, to shrug. He swallows hard.

”I can't just go to him and say please bend me over the nearest horizontal surface and f-”

”Oh my- too much information!” Pidge squeaks and sticks fingers in her ears, grimacing. Keith manages a huffed laugh, rubs his cheek.

”Sorry.”

 

Pidge copies his sitting position, frowns at him.

”So what's the problem? You have a crush on our noble leader and you're too much of a chicken to tell him? You think I know fantastic advice because I'm a girl?”

”No,” Keith grumbles, rubs his nose. ”It's not your gender, it's just- you're reasonable. You wouldn't make fun of me.” He wants to take it back the moment the admission leaves his lips. Dammit, could he sound anymore whiny.

 

”Nobody's gonna make fun of you, dumbass,” Pidge says and sways slightly on her spot. ”Lance might but what do you care what he thinks? Besides, we're all brothers in arms and all that jazz. So the problem is you being a chicken.”

”I'm not a chicken,” Keith grumbles, frown deepening. ”It's just- you think I have experience with any of this? I've lived alone most of my life. And now I think, uh-” there it is again, the blush. He groans and hides his face. ”I think I'm being, uh, seduced.”

 

A bang of silence follows.

”Uh, come again?” Keith blinks through his fingers at his friend. Pidge's eyes are wide. The corner of her lip has quirked up.

”I'm being seduced,” Keith mumbles. Pidge snorts.

”Don't laugh,” he tries but she snorts again. Gets herself back into control then clears her throat.

”What do you mean seduced?”

 

Keith twists his fingers on his lap. It had begun some time ago- or maybe earlier but Keith hadn't taken notice. Shiro had clapped all of their shoulders, pat their backs. Had pulled them up when they had fallen down. Had leaned against them when he had needed support. Lately he had begun meeting Keith way too often for it to be a coincidence. Breakfast. Training grounds. Even late-night strolls through the castle halls. Lately Shiro's touches had begun to linger. Keith shares all of this with Pidge and this time she doesn't laugh.

 

”You think anyone in this day and age would care about two men?” She kicks him in the knee instead. He huffs.

”It's not that he's a guy,” he tries. ”It's that-”

”He's Shiro,” Pidge finishes for him, her smile now warm and crooked. ”Which means he's probably as uncertain as you, you dumbo. He might be our leader and all but he's not that much older than you. You know, just- open your mouth and say what you feel. The worst happens is that he rejects you and you go your own ways-”

”There aren't our own ways anymore, dumbo,” Keith counters. ”It's not like I can just walk away from here. We're all in this together anyway. I don't want to make this awkward.”

 

”Oh, Keith,” Pidge sighs. Rolls her eyes. ”You just told me Shiro's practically been undressing you with his eyes everytime you two are in the room together- also: ew at that mental image and you worry if he even likes you- come on. It's Shiro. He likes us. He might prefer brooding about his tragic existence in his own room most of the time but it's not like he exists on another plane entirely.”

 

”Hilarious,” Keith murmurs and rubs his face again. ”Yeah. I guess you're right.”

”Course I am,” Pidge says. She leans back towards her project. ”Go talk to him or something. You've been moping forever.”

 

He gets up, stretches. His hands are clammy.

”And Keith?” He blinks. Pidge is still looking up at him. She grins.

 

”When you bang, don't bang somewhere we can see, okay?” She grimaces instantly then. ”It's like thinking about my brother having sex with my uncle, goddammit,” she murmurs and Keith has to laugh, the sound bursting his anxiety open like a dam. It's pushed away by adrenaline as he marches through the corridors, wondering how he's going to say it. Be bashful? Be confident? Be himself? He doesn't know how. There have been girls who flocked around him, quickly turned away by his unfriendly nature. There have been boys who came close but they became like Lance before the Lions: rivals, enemies, non-existent. Not friends. Keith had been fine with it. Had chosen it.

 

What's he going to say?

Keith turns around the corner and bumps into the very person invading his head.

”Oh, hey,” Shiro says, a towel tossed over his shoulder. His hair is damp and his chest unbearably bare, clearly having just walked out of the baths. The distinct smell of something musky and flowery sneaks its way into Keith's nostrils and he takes a deep breath.

 

”Shiro,” he breathes out, takes a step forward. ”Have you been flirting with me?” It comes out in one go, in one breath, leaves Shiro blinking and stunned for a second. Then his gaze gets shifty and he clears his throat.

”Yeah. Sorry?” Keith looks at him, really looks. Runs his gaze down that strong jawline, to the firm muscle present in every inch of Shiro's body. A thin outline of indentations left by the Paladin-suit only serve to accentuate that Keith's fellow Paladin is ripped beyond comparison.

 

It's not like Keith is a wiry thin twig himself but Shiro is just wider, broader. Damn nature for making him this way.

”Good,” Keith says and swallows hard, his throat and mouth dry. He steps close and leans closer, closer- only to be stopped by a palm against his chest.

Shiro's eyebrows are raised.

”What are you doing?”

”What does it look like I'm doing?” Keith curls a finger around the waistband of Shiro's pants. Tugs. His body thrums with need. Shiro withdraws his hand and stares at him, his gaze dropping down to Keith's mouth, then back to his eyes.

”Do you like me?”

 

Keith snorts.

”Can't stand you,” he mumbles, shifting. His face heating up again, embarrassed by the stare, by Shiro's unbearably unfair everything.

”You sure?” Shiro's palm is warm against his cheek.

”I've jerked off to you a few times too many,” Keith lets slip, grits his teeth when Shiro grins, the expression so surprising it sends a surge of warmth through Keith.

 

”Okay,” Shiro says. Gently, gently pushes Keith until he's cornered Keith against a wall. ”Okay,” Shiro says again.

”Oh, come on,” Keith groans and takes the first step, smushes their mouths together as tightly and intensely as he can. Shiro's chuckle tickles his lips, turns into a murmur of his name as Shiro traps Keith between himself and the wall. They kiss and kiss and kiss, tongues slow to slip out from between lips, to push and probe and send a rain of fire to Keith's groin. He digs his fingers into the muscle of Shiro's biceps, the flesh on the other arm giving in just enough for it to bruise.

 

Despite the castle only having a few real occupants and entirely too much space, the possibility of being discovered only dawns to Keith after Shiro finally withdraws from him, his breathing running in short pants, a flush risen to his cheeks and his dark red nipples hardening. His pupils have blown as wide as Keith's own must be by now.

 

”It's- been a long while for me,” Shiro says, smiles a soft, hesitant smile even as he shifts his hips, pushes his bulge against Keith. Keith leans to take a bite of his lip.

”I've had so many wet dreams about you,” Keith slips out, rolls his eyes at himself but certainly doesn't regret the admission because Shiro lets his towel drop, lets his hands wander behind Keith to grab his ass.

”You have?” Shiro breaths out, grinds against him and apparently enjoys making Keith squirm because he nibbles Keith's neck next.

 

”Your room,” Keith says and shoves Shiro off of him, doesn't let himself look for too long because his hormones are already overloading, already lighting matches inside him and making everything fiery and entirely too hot.

 

X

 

However they make it to Shiro's room is beyond Keith but here he is now, half of his clothes strewn on the floor, straddling Shiro's lap.

”Can't I-” Keith's words turn into a hiss as Shiro's finger, slicked and chilly slips to his ass and between his asscheeks, to circle and rub the entrance into him.

”What?” Shiro pants, kissing his cheek, nuzzling his temple.

”Can't I suck you?” Keith tries again, clutching Shiro's shoulders. He'd withdraw his hands long enough to finally shrug off his shirt, the last barrier between their mostly naked bodies but he doesn't want to stop touching now that he has permission to, Shiro's muscles quivering under his fingertips.

 

”Later,” Shiro murmurs. He tugs Keith closer, pushes his hand between them and tries again.. ”It's cold?”

Keith breathes deep. Nods. Grumbles an affirmative. Rolls his hips just enough to get the point across and huffs a laugh when Shiro's breath against his neck hitches.

”Sorry,” Shiro says. ”It's- it's ointment. Oil-based. I, uh, looked it up and it's good for this kind of use and all but apparently it needs some warming up.”

 

”I just want you,” Keith mutters and blinks, momentarily confused when he's pushed away from Shiro, all the way to lay on his back.

”If you haven't done this before, I don't want to mess it up,” Shiro says and climbs over him, reaches for the bottle again. It opens with a click and Shiro pours more to his fingers, rubs them together and even blows on it.

 

Keith's body tingles with anticipation. He lays his hands on Shiro's thighs, drags his nails down Shiro's skin.

”I've done it before,” Keith mutters. ”Well.. the bed thing. Hooking up. But not like. I wasn't-” He waves a hand, bites his lip. Meets Shiro's inquisitive gaze. Rather fears to find pity in it, for Shiro's need of him to die in that spot.

”Oh, alright,” Shiro mutters instead and leans down to kiss him. ”Spread your legs a little more, just a little more okay,” Shiro murmurs between twisting tongues and clacking teeth. Keith does so, bends a knee when he feels slicked, warm, big hands travelling up and down his thighs.

 

”I've been fingered,” Keith mutters, slips out a groan when Shiro's fingers- warm this time, warm and pleasantly slick- return to his ass and to his entrance. ”But not- all the way you know. I never felt like it.”

”Okay,” Shiro says and shifts to kiss his nose, takes his mouth again when he plunges the first finger in. As it is the one not made of alien-tech it's flexible, it twists as it dives in, joint after joint until it's all the way to the knuckle. ”But you feel like it now?” Shiro has to ask, even when Keith is halfway into begging.

 

”Yes,” Keith grunts and whines when Shiro pulls away from his mouth, slips himself further down. ”Where are you going-”

Shiro hums, moves his finger. Moves his mouth on Keith's chest. Runs his tongue on the lines of Keith's slender muscles. Tweaks a nipple and sucks on it, Keith gasps, nearly arching off the bed. He swears, reaches to tug Shiro's hair.

”What are you doing, come back and kiss me,” Keith tries but Shiro descends, his mouth leaving a wet, blushing trail after itself.

”Shiro,” but Shiro doesn't listen. Shiro slips the finger out and repositions himself, mouthing at Keith's dick and Keith squirms.

”I'm gonna come on your face, dude, come on,” he pants, moans out loud when instead of pulling away Shiro just nods.

”It's just semen, Keith,” Shiro murmurs, his voice husky and rough and Keith is on fire- he's the one who put that need into Shiro's voice, it's his dick being pulled into Shiro's mouth currently. The finger returns as well, slipping inside Keith and circling and gently, gently pushing.

 

Keith's eyes are squeezed shut, he shivers uncontrollably as Shiro sucks his dick, adds another finger and moves them inside of him, in the wettest, warmest, slickiest part of him, preparing him. Keith whines and gasps, hips bucking up until Shiro's metal palm lands on his hip and stays there, grounding him.

”You can stay still, Keith. You can do it,” Shiro mutters before taking him into his mouth again.

”No,” Keith stutters but does so, his body continues to tremble like he's close to exploding.

 

In and out Shiro pushes his fingers, the calloused fingertips rubbing Keith's tender entrance and scissoring him open for later.

”Shiro,” Keith breathes out, struggles to sit up. ”I don't want to come until you- you're inside.” Shiro lets his dick go with a pop and looks at up at him.

 

The sight of him is almost enough alone to send Keith tumbling over the edge. To think he gets to have it at least this one time: to see Shiro so messy, lips chapped and knuckle-deep in Keith. No one who saw Shiro now would think he's been doing anything but this.

”You sure?” Shiro asks, two fingers becoming three. Twist and turn and circle they do, Keith's body tingling with the need to release.

 

”'m not gonna beg you,” Keith says, swallows hard and flushes even deeper red at the volume of his own voice.

”No one's gonna hear, all of these rooms are soundproof,” Shiro murmurs, his whisper gentle even when his hands aren't. ”Maybe.. uh, maybe it's better if you turn around, okay?”

 

Keith is about to protest, something about being on his hands and knees and not seeing what's happening rubbing him the wrong way but Shiro thrusts against him and his dick is curved and thick, probabloy not as long as Keith's own but he's thick, so thick Keith will probably feel it a good while after this.

 

Keith turns, shoves a pillow under his face and wraps his arms around it, quivers when Shiro runs a slicked finger down his thigh. A click of the lube bottle once more and Shiro's fingers return, insistent and slow. They make circles inside Keith, push knuckle-deep inside until Keith is squirming and leaking onto the sheets.

”Shiro, come on,” Keith breathes, eyes tightly closed. Shiro never lets his hands withdraw, never stops touching him in some way. Keith feels loose for the lack of a better word, his body pleasantly warm and mind buzzed like it was filled with bees and alcohol.

 

But it's just Shiro.

”I don't want to hurt you, Keith,” Shiro murmurs but his fingers withdraw. Keith groans, his inner muscles clenching reflexively. More lube is poured and then-

”Just do it, I don't want to come before you,” Keith murmurs, unsure if Shiro even hears but Shiro obeys his silent request and brings his dick to replace his fingers.

 

Instinctively Keith's body stills, unused to insertions larger than his own fingers or the occasional sex toy.

”Keith,” Shiro murmurs and rubs his ass, leans over him to kiss the knob of his spine. ”If it's too much just say and I'll stop.” Shiro's tongue rubs over the protruding bone. Keith wonders if he might just die if Shiro pulled away now. It's just the tip at Keith's entrance but even that is radiating heat, even that is thicker than the insistent, twisting fingers.

 

”Shiro,” Keith snarls against his pillow and takes a deep breath, pushes himself against his companion. Shiro's prosthetic grabs his hip, his other apparently on his dick as it's guided to its rightful spot.

 

In. Shiro pushes in. All air runs out of Keith's lungs.

”In,” he manages once it returns. Shiro pushes and pushes and pushes.

”I can't believe-” Shiro starts, his voice coming out oddly muffled, ending into a moan. ”You feel good, Keith, so good,” Shiro murmurs, his hips rolling one more time as he bottoms out entirely. The burn is nearing unbearable, Keith's breath running in short, pained gasps but Shiro is whispering to him, soft, romantic nonsense and kissing his neck and back and hair like he was something to be cherished.

”You're okay,” Shiro murmurs.

 

Keith claws at the sheets and tries to get his heartbeat back into something semblance of a rhythm. ”You're okay, Keith, just breathe. Just say if you want me to stop and I'll stop,” Shiro murmurs and wraps his heavy arms around Keith to rub his chest and sides, to burn his touch on every inch he can reach. Shiro shifts, his dick shifting with him and rubbing against Keith's insides and his knees buckle, nearly giving out from under him.

 

”You're way too thick,” Keith moans, his voice a little drunk, words stumbling over each other because he can't quite keep them in order in this state of being as he is.

”Sorry,” Shiro mutters. A calloused fingertip, slicked up by the lube that Shiro probably keeps near himself, returns to where they are connected, rubs against Keith's stretched muscle and the firm frame of Shiro's shaft. Keith whimpers, the noise high-pitched and broken.

 

”Are you okay? How do you feel?” Shiro kisses his neck, his lips chapped and lingering. His palm impossibly warm on Keith's stomach, making his skin raise to goosebumps.

”Yeah,” Keith manages, reaching with a shaky hand to squeeze Shiro's wrist. ”Y-yeah.” Keith wipes his own mouth, wonders if it's drool or blood from a too forceful bite and can't bring himself to care. He can't even open his eyes, can't raise his head from the pillow.

”Move. Just-” He shifts, pushes his hips against Shiro. ”Move.”

 

Without a sight, all other senses seem to heighten. Keith is sharply aware of every single tiny movement Shiro makes: the first time his hips actually start moving, when he starts pulling his dick out inch by inch and then slowly thrusting back in. When Shiro's heavy weight vanishes from top of him and his hands grasp Keith's hips. The rhythm that Shiro starts is slow, every inch of his dick sliding into Keith felt sharply, semen dripping from Keith's neglected dick. Slowly but surely Keith's body relaxes more, Shiro entering him with more ease. With that ease comes the increase in speed, Shiro's grip on his hips tightening, his hands starting to roam.

 

”You- you never have to feel bad about your body, Keith,” Shiro murmurs, grasping at Keith's ass for support as he shoves himself in. Keith pants and moans, legs instinctively spreading further apart even though Shiro has all the space he needs to invaide him: body and soul.

”Shut _up,”_ Keith grunts, gasping for air as he presses his fiery-red cheek against his sweaty pillow.

”You're, uh, _Keith,_ you're in such good shape,” Shiro continues murmuring instead, his laughter brief.

”Says you,” Keith manages. Shiro curls his hands tighter around Keith's hips and slams in, striking a spot that makes Keith see starts. ”Faster,” Keith growls when the sparks stop dancing behind his eyelids, when Shiro's pace doesn't increase.

 

Shiro's palm descends on his ass instead, making him jolt. Keith moans, unashamed and loud.

”I didn't-” Shiro murmurs, his hips slam forward faster, Keith's brain in an overload. ”-think I'd get to have sex with you ever,” Shiro continues, his words barely audible, lost in the groans and moans, lost in the slap of skin against skin.

”Nnghgn,” is all Keith manages, his brain scrambling for some coherency, his body loose and pliant in Shiro's hands.

 

”Keith-” Shiro moans and drags him up against himself, Keith's back against his chest and turns his head, kisses his mouth like he was dying for it. Keith doesn't manage to grab his own dick before Shiro is at it, his large palm covering Keith's length with ease. The kisses don't last, they breathe against each other's mouths, Shiro whispers his name again and again as he fucks him into oblivion. Keith's eyes roll back in his head as his climax surges through him, spills his load on their hands.

 

Keith is aware of flopping back down on the bed, aware of Shiro pulling out of him and jerking himself to completion judging by the strained gasps and drops of cum landing on Keith's back. Keith is aware of Shiro's mouth on his own, that unwanted, unnecessary question of are you okay ringing in his head again.

 

”I don't think I can move for a while,” Keith murmurs and thinks it's just that he's tired, his very bones trembling with pleasant ache that he lets himself be cleaned by Shiro, be pulled closer.

”I'd like to do that again soon,” Shiro murmurs, his hand dancing over Keith's thigh.

”Once my brain starts working,” Keith mutters and doesn't blush when Shiro laughs at him.

 

**Author's Note:**

> i don't even know   
> i blame my amazing friend and her amazing shiro/keith art and the fact that i haven't written porn in forevereeerrrr


End file.
